Straight drive

Of Sherlock Holmes, Robin Hood and Shakespeare

2012-01-01T03:49:00.000-08:00

As I caught up with a few movies over the new year weekend, it got me thinking over a tool many filmmakers seem to have been using recently - that of retelling a standard classic. Since there is no longer anything of value to be added, they tweak a little something: either set it to a different time, or provide additional layers to the characters or the plot. While most of the time it is an interesting exercise in that it tries to provide an answer to some of the 'what if..' situations we think of, other times the filmmakers take the idea so far out we have a tough time convincing ourselves we are watching the same movie the title seems to suggest!

I must admit I had my apprehensions when Guy Ritchie's 'Sherlock Holmes' came out a couple of years back, but the movie was a pleasant surprise. Ritchies' achievement lay in getting away from the stereotypes that Holmes, and especially Dr. Watson, had becomes in the earlier versions and not retelling any of Conan Doyle's original plots. That, combined with the typically edgy way Ritchie filmed the action sequences with the London thugs, gave us a Holmes with a spunk never seen before.

Where the sequel to the movie fails though, and spectacularly at that, is when it starts taking itself too seriously. While I merely squirmed in the seat when we had Holmes predicting the impact of wireless communication in the first installment, here he goes as far as to saving the world from a 'world war' - in circa 1880! I am not even sure when the particular term was coined! In an instant, Holmes thus gets promoted from a master detective to a political analyst of the highest order - as if Holmes and Watson dodging 'machine guns' was not bad enough. Another example was Ridley Scott's 'Robin Hood' which suggested that our beloved thief in fact contributed to the scripting of the Magna Carta!

Some of the little touches, like the shots of the Tower Bridge under construction in the first Holmes movie and those of the underground in the second one, are crafty and useful since they map the events into a historical timeframe but attributing undeserving, and must I add unnecessary, achievements to the subject just makes it more complex than it really is, as if to tell the viewer 'look, this is important stuff, we aren't making a trivial action movie here!'

The very next day though, I happened to catch BBC's 'Sherlock', which is basically Holmes in a contemporary setting. It is definitely more watchable since other than changing the setting of the stories, and adding the necessary technology aids to Holmes, it retains the characters from the original to the T.

One of the movies which managed pull the trick off must be 'Shakespeare in Love', one of the finest romantic movies in recent years. Being a fictional account of the Bard's own romance, it followed many of the themes from his plays making it fun spotting the various Shakespeare references throughout the movie. The banter between Romeo and Juliet being mouthed by Ralph Fiennes and Gwyneth Paltrow as they make love gives a whole new meaning to those immortal lines and takes it to an altogether different level.

Back home, Vishal Bhardwaj's Shakespeare adaptations must rank as one of the finest in the world. As is the case with the best adaptations, he takes the basic premise and transports it to a drastically different setting. His understanding of the rural Indian landscape combined with the sheer dramatic nature of the Bard's works results in a heady cocktail. I only wish he signs of a trilogy by adapting 'Hamlet'.

Then of course there are those who stick to a retelling of the stories without deviating from the written word. The challenge here is recreating the time period and getting the casting right. The LOTR trilogy had the toughest challenge in this regard and it is only due to Peter Jackson's love and admiration for the source material that he was able to recreate middle earth so convincingly, pleasing even the most ardent LOTR fans.

Now only if Jackson would read the Mahabharata and come up with a trilogy!

Catch ups and meet ups

2011-12-03T06:27:00.000-08:00

Ah, we are in that cycle again. Every once in a while, during the festive/wedding season or when the migratory birds (read: Desis settled abroad) come visiting or when technology or social networking enables us to connect to people settled all over the world, there is always the inevitable talk of a getting together of old mates.

Having lived in the same locality all the bloody time, and owing to my good habit of walking to most places, I do keep bumping into old friends and acquaintances many a time. Rather depressingly, I am starting to feel these meetings end up on a rather disappointing note.

Perhaps some explanation is needed. You see, we tend to have these wonderful memories of everyone we knew as a kid, and every time we refer to the person, the memories and stories we evoke conform to that image. Of course, no one is going to stay the same all the time. Hell, I can hardly recognize myself sometimes. If I were to hear myself blabbering on 'official' calls I would probably ask myself to get a life, but that is besides the point.

It is akin to the generally accepted principle of never personally meeting your hero - the moment you find out he is just another human being as you are, the bubble bursts.

Now when we meet up with childhood friends after they would have been through 'the grind', they would have assumed a 'mask', just as you have - the mask which one acquires as one enters into adult/professional life, which enables us to maintain a stoic exterior calm when dealing with the outside world and prevents us from betraying our emotions, in other words, helps us be 'professional' at all times, or they just might have been bogged down by their responsibilities, and you begin to wonder what happened to the dork you knew back then.

Of course, as you begin to peel away, you find some of their habits you remember are still there, they remember all the stories you remember, and the person you adored as a kid is lurking somewhere behind all the facade.

Whether they succeed in peeling your layers off is another matter, but then again, that is how you know who your friends are I guess...

I am Happy....

2011-04-02T11:29:00.000-07:00

I am happy.

I am happy for the school kid who cannot resist a peek at the TV to check the score as he prepares for his exams, cursing the ICC for the inconvenient scheduling.

I am happy for the proud Bengali who first instilled confidence and taught the team what it was to stand tall in the face of calamity, and who must be proudly looking at the team today as it carries his legacy forward.

I am happy for the street kid who spends his hard earned money to buy a ticket costing way more than his income every time there is a match in the town, with the
sole intention of seeing his heroes in action, and forgoes a few meals along the way.

I am happy for the lion hearted fast bowler who came back into the team the long hard way and for half a decade since has carried the Indian attack on his shoulders despite having a different new ball partner almost every second match; who must have been haunted by the memories of how he, then a young tearaway fast bowler, had gifted the momentum to Australia the last time India came this far, but came back and redeemed himself on the biggest stage eight years down the line.

I am happy for the Indian away from India who on most occasions can only follow the match on cricinfo, but still stays up all night and cheers for every run scored and wicket taken as if his life depended on it.

I am happy for the lion hearted batsman who repaid the captain's faith with a string of match winning performances on the biggest stage, when just an year before, not many would have given him the chance of even making the world cup squad.

I am happy for the millions of people who had watched in horror as Sachin got stumped and the team collapsed in a heap at the Eden Gardens, resulting in the most shameful exit from the biggest tournament in the sport, and who now rejoice as their dream comes true.

I am happy for the man with the midas touch, who took a team which was capable of being a world beater and made them realise their potential, who has always done things his way, and who had the courage to stand up on the big day, and show the rest how it is done.

I am happy for the kids watching the game right now, some of whom might get a chance of their own to create history in the years down the line, and who would proudly exclaim that the moment which inspired them was one when MSD sent the ball flying into the Mumbai night sky.

But most of all, and all Indians would agree, I am happy for one person, whom I am not even going to try to list the achievements of, for the boy who never grew up, the peter pan of Cricket, Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar..

A captivating rivalry

2009-02-08T07:03:00.000-08:00

Watching Federer go down against Nadal at the final of the Australian Open was an overbearing experience. An year ago, Nadal had demolished the master at the French garrison and then stole the Wimbledon from right under Federer's nose in one of the greatest matches of the open era. Even so, Nadal had to fight every inch of the way as the fifth set went all the way to 9-7 before laying his hands on the crystal trophy.

The Australian open final was different. It was, as Federer later admitted, a match he should have won. He was the on who hit far more winners, albeit compensated with his higher number of unforced errors, had almost doulble break points to his opponent, and also won two of his sets rather easily - 6-3. So what went wrong?

It was a battle which, more than anything, Federer lost in the mind. He made one bad error in the third game of the fifth set which allowed Nadal to break him, and you could almost recognise that Federer had lost the plot. Though Nadal's immensely powerful top-spinning forehand and his relentless pursuit of the ball are valid technical reasons for Nadal's success, he is the only player in the world who has yet managed to beat Federer psychologically.

Nadal had come on the circuit with Federer firmly confirmed as the next big thing in Tennis, and in his first two years Federer had proven everyone right, winning grand slams all over, at the same time sending purists into raptures with his exquisite play. Nadal was primarily a clay court player with huge shoulders and biceps for a nineteen year old.

While most players tried to play the traditional way to combat Federer's powers, Nadal was building up a game of his own, based on powerful top spinning forehands and exceptional ability to return the most accurate 'winners'. Being left handed also allowed him to attack Federer's relatively weak backhand.

Right from the first time they faced up, Nadal has had an upper hand against Roger. By the time Federer first beat Nadal, at their fourth encounter head to head, the so called clay court player stole a set off Federer in Federer's most hallowed court, that of Wimbledon, in Jul '06.

The next year when they repeated successes at the Roland Garros and Wimbledon, while Federer managed just a set in Paris, Nadal took the Wimbledon final to the fifth set and was actually dominating the match till well into the fourth. Most people who saw that match, Federer fans included, acknowledged that Nadal would most likely overcome the Wimbledon barrier the next year, which he so famously did, routing Federer in a epic five setter in 2008.

But the real death blow had come a month earlier in the clay court of Paris, where Nadal ruthlessly ripped Federer's game apart in a 6-1,6-3,6-0 demolition job. That match more than anything has given Nadal a mental stronghold over Federer which he has since found impossible to overcome.

Federer fans have since started to doubt whether Federer would ever be able to break the hold at all. Indeed, if he is to overcome Sampras' 14 grand slams he would have to reduce his unforced errors against Nadal drastically. The unforced errors had such a huge impact on his loss at Wimbledon last year and at the Aussie open this year, so did his inability to convert breakpoints.

It is when Roger has a breakpoint that one can see the depth of Nadal's resolve and self belief. He doesnt give an inch and keeps belting winners when most players would go for conservative gameplay. In the Aussie open final, he came back from 0-40 and 15-40 in the third set, which he eventually won on the tiebreak. Had Federer broken him in one of those two games, the trophy would have been his - three sets to one.

Nadal has clearly raised the bar higher than Federer did a couple of years ago. While Federer is on the verge of Sampras' record, Nadal already has almost half the slams Federer has and is touted as the next favourite to have a crack at the record.

Federer has at best an year and half to raise his game and to instill the belief that he can beat Nadal. If he ever manages to get the 14th or the 15th grand slam with Nadal at the other side of the net, it would be the icing on the cherry.

For now, the power, as they say, is with the boy from Mallorca.

Cutting!

2008-12-22T09:18:00.000-08:00

Whatever it means in the English language, for boys growing up in India, it only means one thing - a monthly trip to the nearest barber after a scolding at school!

India's hair cut saloons are a lovely reflection of the culture of the place. The water and the after shave being sprayed around the place leaves a lingering smell which is at once damp and refreshing. The cut locks lying about the floor add their own to the ambience. If the shop is relatively old, the furniture would have got all creaky with lime scales lining up the mirrors. The platform in front of the mirror is littered with water sprays, blades, creams of all makes, dyes, and the like. All in all, a great place to get in touch with the real India (forgive me for sounding like a firang tourist.)

If, like 80% of the general populace, you find it too hard to get up on a weekday for the harvest and only visit the place 'subah subah' on a Sunday (anytime before 1PM), chances are, there would be atleast 7-8 people waiting for attention. These would have a liberal distribution of retired grandpas with their grandsons, teenagers wishing to look cool, and the working man, desperate to get the haircut done as soon as possible so he can rest for the R of the day.

Most of the medium range barber shops have posters showing scalps with various lengths of mane cut in different shapes.

Though for most of the people, the Q 'how do I cut your hair' is generally answered in a word: 'short', 'medium' or the like, few of the adventurous lot desire their cut to look like on of the ones in the posters, or better still, they come up with an original design which takes a lot of effort to explain, with hands going all over the place as they instruct the barber how to apply the razor and the scissors.

It is with precisely such species that the barber is most satisfied with. Though the usual 'I will get my haircut done every four weeks' sort are their bread and butter, these people provide them the freedom to explore their art and push the boundaries. They are their exotic leg glances for six to the common man's dab to the third man for a single.

They provide them the licence to exercise their creative side, to traverse their scissors and clipper through unknown paths, all the while charting a new course which would translate as their very own hairstyle and place the benefactor upon the highest pedestal among his circle of friends, each of whose barbers no doubt would have had tried to take a similar route to the unknown, only to fail miserably, finally resorting to a lift home.

These people leave the place with an investigative look into the mirror, which slowly but surely transforms into an appreciation of their own reflection and a nod to the barber for a job well done. Not for them the quick payment and the rush back home to take a quick bath. They are gifted souls who know how to appreciate a good thing and thus take their own sweet time before taking the much needed head bath.

The reluctant kid with the grandpa is the one to watch out for. For, even though the brat would have arrived a full half and hour late to the place, he is most likely to leapfrog you to the chair. He would also take more time to get an inch of his hair cut than you would for a haircut and a shave twice over. He is the one the barber is least reluctant to get his hands to, for the simple reason that the return in this case is inversely proportional on investment (time), since the rates for a 'baba' cut only being two thirds that of a 'men' cut.

This rule must have been proposed and approved by a commitee entirely comprising of bald heads and women, for anyone who suffered at the hands of these fiendish creatures would have rather banned babas from entering the domain of annas.

The advent of television has transformed these formerly troublesome but, on the whole, stupid babas into 'kids' who talk the talk. I recently came across a ten year old who insisted on having a 'crew cut'. When the barber asked him to take the seat, he, wanting to make sure the barber knew what he was doing, quizzed the barber on the various intricacies of having such a cut done, before granting the barber the approval to go ahead with the cut, with a disclaimer of a non payment in case the cut did not come up as expected! On the other hand, when I was a part of the kid parade, even my 'chota kaato', 'medium kaato' was decided by my dad! Aaah... time does fly!

As people wait to get attention while the cool dudes and the kids are occupying the chairs, most people go through the newspapers or watch the television. For some strange reason, the barber shop is the only place I have ever read Filmfare. I never bought one at railways stations or at other book shops. Maybe because I did not want to be seen reading a film magazine (?), I don't know. But that was that. I also know a couple of people who used to go to the barber's just to read Filmfare and come back without a haircut, but with vital inside information on 'who is with whom'; It must be noted that for much of the nineties, the Filmfare was one of the few sources of news on forthcoming films and of filmi gossips.

The barber's is also a good place to catch up with other 'cutting' friends (for the uninitiated, these are people you know solely because your harvesting seasons match). The barber of course acts as the mediator if you do not come across a few of these for two-three regular visits.

With 'posh' places mushrooming all over the place, the good ol' hair cutting saloon has also caught the bug with AC Unisex saloons coming up in metros. Thankfully, these cost a fortune, atleast for now. I thus have kept my 'cutting' friends till now, and hope to do so, for many cuts to come, till I go bald that is.

A tale of three cities

2008-09-09T08:45:00.000-07:00

London, New York and Paris are three cities which have withstood the test of time and have redefined the way the modern world has shaped up, for better or for worse.

Having been fortunate enough to spend time in all three of them within a space of an year, and having been bewitched by each of them in their own unique ways, here are my views on them.

London was home to me for two years. London was everything I expected it to be, and a bit more. As a character says in Snatch, "London, you know... - fish, chips, cup 'O tea, bad weather, worse food, Mary @#$%ing Poppins, London!". My own views are not that cynical but yes, the worst thing about London is surely the weather. Well, for eight months of the year at least.

It is not just the fact that it is cold but it so amazingly depressing in the short and cloudy days of the winter, that I often wonder how the British have resisted suicidal tendencies! In the summer, however, England is the best place to be. With the extended daytime and sunshine which is at once bright and not overbearing, the English countryside is a great place to take long walks. Coming back to London though...

No matter what kind of a person you are and whatever is it that you like, chances are, London will have just the kind of place which would keep you interested. For anyone with the an interest in history and the arts, there is the British Museum, the National Gallery, the theatres in West end and numerous other places. If you are a party animal, there are countless clubs blaring out music all night long. If you like Sports, there are at least 3 test matches played in London alone every year, apart from Wimbledon, football, Formula One, the London Marathon, etc etc.

Only a few of the British however, were as I had expected them to be. My idea of a Britisher was of a tough as nails, eloquent fellow who knows exactly how to convey disappointment and appreciation in equal measure, without ever seeming to do either!

Unfortunately, like the rest of the developed world, the British have also gone into a slumber. The youngest native Britisher in my office was 27! Most of the young generation do not study beyond high school and chalk out their livelihood doing petty jobs in supermarkets and the like. Whatever happened to the seafaring adventurers and pioneers of industrial revolution I do not know. They seem to have lost the buccaneering spirit. According to a statistic, Pakistani immigrants would outnumber the English in Birmingham in as early as 2027. What that would do to England as we know it, only time can tell.

But meeting a few of the people I was fortunate to work with made me appreciate what made these people rule the world. The written and verbal communication skills coupled with the analytical ability of one gentleman in particular made me step up the bar of my own work and improve.

While discussing a particular logic, this particular gentleman would say something I wouldn't understand at the moment. As I kept looking for solutions to the problem and thought out the outcomes of each step of the proposed solution, I would finally hit a roadblock and blurt out 'we could have done XYZ but it wouldn't be possible because of ABC' and it would strike me that he had said the same thing about four or five minutes earlier. As they say, the best way to learn to play is to play against a better player and that's what happened to me!

All said and done, as a wise man had said, 'A man tired of London is tired of life!'

London and Paris were the most prominent cities of the middle age and shaped much of arts and technology of the time. I was expecting Paris to be similar to London but the moment I saw trash lying all over the place and overflowing toilets at the bus stop, I knew I was in for a surprise. Paris is as different from London as the French are to the British.

As with London, Paris has more than its share of museums, art galleries and grand old buildings, with a little difference. Most buildings in London (I only refer to the ones built before 1850), though large and grand in their own way, were built to serve practical purposes more than anything else. Not for the British the unnecessarily large halls and archways. Paris, and Europe by extension, has huge palaces and cathedrals which were built to satisfy the royal families' ego more than anything else. Whatever it cost the citizens of the time, they make for excellent tourist destinations. I visited the Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre, and the Eiffel in a single day and that was best combination of monuments I saw in such a short time. The Notre Dame and other cathedrals are also a must watch, and so is a boat ride on the Seine.

Paris once stood for grandeur and magnificence and is now mostly known to be the fashion capital of the world and, for some strange reason, the most romantic city in the world. Maybe it was because I roamed all over Paris all alone, but I couldn't fathom why it is considered so. But not for nothing is it called the fashion capital of the world. Home to every other fashion label, even the streets of Paris have clothes and accessories of all kinds catering to all budgets. I never saw a wider range of shoes and hats worn than I did in two days in Paris.

The Parisians love food. Roadside restaurants with lovely umbrellas and chairs line up either sides of almost all major streets. Sitting in one of these sipping coffee and people watching is a great way to while your time away.

The French are very easy going people. While the British make a conscious effort to maintain a stoic expression and look 'stylish', it comes fairly naturally to the French. They are very liberal, as is evident from their movies, and quite prone to bend the rules when required. The British on the other hand follow every rule to the T.

Paris, thus, is not as clean and disciplined as London is. In two years I saw exactly one traffic violation in London while I lost count of it in Paris in precisely two days, just like I would back home. The streets, the underground railway and the city in general has a feel of a city which 'once was'. However, with so many magnificent buildings and monuments, it is unlikely that Paris would ever lose its charm.

If London and Paris represent the older world, New York, more than anything, symbolises the new world and the idea behind America as a nation. A land of settlers rather than natives, the country has been built brick by brick by people who travelled across the seas to a vast, hostile land which had as many natural obstacles as it had resources.

For more than a century, New York was the first place Europeans from across the Pacific landed in and tried to chalk out a living. It was not a land where freebies were given away. As a result, only the enterprising and the hardworking survived.

In a sense, it is to America and the world what Mumbai is to India. It is a melting pot of people and cultures from all corners of the world. As with London, it has something to offer for everybody. But it is just so much bigger and busier and livelier than London that it took my breath away.

I always thought touring New York would be akin to visiting a concrete jungle. I couldn't have been more wrong. The city has such an energy about itself, it is hard not to get infected by it. Manhattan with its skyscrapers and unruly traffic is a great place to stroll through. Though the likes of the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State building and Central Park are good to visit, they are not a jot on the attractions on offer in the other two cities. But that is not where the charm of New York lies. New York thrives on its streets. It is said that if you stand on the Times Square long enough, you would meet people from every country in the world. It is certainly not an exaggeration.

It does have its share of traditional attractions too in the form of museums, night life and Broadway.

New York has for long been a Democratic hub and is quite liberal in its outlook. The dignity it observed while mourning for the loss of 9/11 was a lesson for us in particular. The eerie silence on the WTC site sends a shiver down the spine even today.

The Americans live in a world of their own. All the fuss about global warming and saving natural resources does not seem to have reached them yet. They continue to drive their SUVs as if it is the only 'single seater' conveyance mode available, use up as much paper in form of stationery and toiletry in a day as we would in a fortnight, keep the lights on throughout the night in malls and shops, and do just about everything possible to accelerate the planet's death.

It is not that they do not care, but just that they do not get it.

They are the most interactive of the lot. Any polite enquiry towards their well being is answered with an emphatic 'great!', 'wonderful!' and the like. A Britisher would feel stretched to say as much as 'good'. A typical answer in this case would be that he isn't doing bad, or worse, that he is doing tolerably well.

With its diverse architecture and cultures, these cities have shaped the modern world and attracted people all over the world for more than a century. It is up to us, the developing world, to draw inspiration from them with respect to urban planning and mass transportation.

I certainly do hope to visit each of them again to soak in the sights and sounds of these wonderful cities.

Love thy neighbour? My foot!

2008-04-11T14:42:00.000-07:00

For an Indian growing up in the 'communally sensitive' city of Hyderabad and having watched the menace of cross border terrorism grow from murders in Kashmir to bomb blasts 5 minutes from my home, I have nothing but the deepest hatred for all things Pakistan.

I remember Wasim Akram once said in an interview that when he first came to India he half expected to find devils with horns walking on the street. My notion of Pakistan, and as an extension Pakistanis was not very different. Though that particular notion has since been put to rest, I have found new reasons to continue my contempt for the nation.

The first time I met a Paki (I use the term purely as short form for 'Pakistani' and not in the derogatory sense), in fact two of them, was in Dubai on stopover to London, which, incidentally, my first overseas travel.

As much as I dislike it I do look like someone across the border, and thus they misunderstood me to be a Pakistani. They surely did not look Indian to me and I guessed at once that they were from Punjab across the border. When I told them I was an Indian they were surprised but when I told them that I was from Hyderabad, they were sort of relieved: 'So that is the reason you speak such good Urdu!'.

Now, as much as I admire Mughal-e-Azam and the fact that I watched it in a theater, I do not consider myself a good exponent of the language. I was only speaking what can best be described as 'Hindustani', which is really a khichdi of Hindi and Urdu. I had heard Rameez Raza speak similarly on TV and refer to it as Urdu but experiencing it first hand was something else!

Once in London you cannot miss interacting with the neighbours, be they Pakis or Bangladeshis. Most of them undertake manual labour and are here only because of the money (what else!). They usually try to juggle 2 or 3 jobs so as to make more money. Since the pay for a white collared job and for manual labour in the UK is not very different, they can chalk out a decent living and save in pounds.

Most of the restaurants owned by these 'neighbours' are proudly classified as 'Indian restaurants' and are unimaginatively titled 'taste of India', 'prince of India' and the like, especially if they are owned by Banglas. The one dead giveaway is of course the menu which would have dishes like 'Shobze masala' (sabzi masala) and 'Balti masala'. In case of Paki restaurants, of course, you find a lot more kabab varieties then normal and a very low sense of hygiene, so it is not difficult to identify.

The watchman (called here as the 'concierge'), in our apartment is also a Paki but for heavens knows why the bastard has married an Indian. He talks about India-Pakistan friendship a lot - he goes the whole length and says things like 'yeh sarhaden to in politician logon ne banaayi hain varna hamaare dil ek hain' etc etc. He said he wanted to go to see the Taj Mahal for his honeymoon but was denied a visa. All said and done I dont believe him a jot even after two years. It does not help that a van allegedly belonging to a 'Kashmir relief group' (also written in Urdu) arrives to meet him once in a while.

I have sensed that they consider the Mughal era as some sort of a golden period when they ruled the whole of the sub continent and the fact that all of the remains of the period stayed with India really gets to them.

I found it very funny that after all the anti India talk they do, they still watch Indian movies, TV serials, and even news channels. (as long as they are not talking about Kashmir!) They love India for all that it has to offer but also hate it wholeheartedly because that is what they were supposed to do in the first place!

Many of the Pakistani artists and sportspersons live off India: their singers sing in our movies; their comedians perform in our shows; half of their Cricket team is playing in the ICL, the other half of course in the IPL, and the hockey players have already been playing the IHL!

While it helps in people-people contact and all that non sense, I never understood why we as a nation never got over this unnecessary and uncalled for desire to help out Pakistan. Maybe it comes from Mahatma Gandhi granting 55 Crore to Pakistan (was that a starting bonus of some kind?)

The Pakis, on the other hand, expect India to fulfill its duties all the time. Javed Miandad for example, said recently that the BCCI should help PCB by coming over for an ODI series! Not that I'm sourcing most of my opinion from Cricket, but when we are talking of India and Pakistan, it is generally an excellent indicator.

Now they have got to a situation where they bred this monster as a weapon to use against India but it has gone out of hand. I hope we resist any temptation to help them out. They would fight among themselves and there would be fewer left for us to finish off.

Oh my captain, do not go

2007-09-15T13:21:00.000-07:00

Rahul Dravid's decision to quit the captaincy certainly is a bolt from the blue. When such a proud and commited individual takes such a decision with the team is in a transition and knowing how much the team depends on hin, it must raise raise the question as to the circumstances which compelled him to take the decision.

I suppose it was a combination of factors, starting with the world cup debacle. Chappell had to go after that but Rahul bravely soldiered on, reportedly on BCCI's request. You get the feeling he never got to impose his style on the team, something Ganguly did so famously. Part of the reason was because Chappell already had the team playing according to his theories.

It is hardly a secret that Rahul is a player who thinks about each aspect of his game meticulously so in making him the captain Indian Cricket had an oppurtunity to have a captain who went with more than just his instinct. Most of Ganguly's successes as a leader, I thought were more to do with his man management skills than his ability as a strategist on the field. Dravid was never going to go that way. Nor was he ever going to get under the skin of a Steve Waugh. He knows only one way of playing the game and that is the good old fashioned slog.

That he expected others in the team to do the same is a mistake which even Sachin Tendulkar was guilty of commiting. I suppose you need a certain detachment with the whole thing if you are an Indian captain. Azhar famously never gave much of an advise to the players on the field with the simple logic that they were international players and were supposed to know that already. Ganguly of course was the complete opposite, and he also got whatever he wanted out of the board. He knew how to get around the rules, so to say. But he never took matters personally, he only took so much responsibility which he felt he owned whereas Dravid and Sachin took it upon themselves to do everything.

There were too many stories after the world cup on the differences between Tendulkar, Ganguly and Dravid and you just get the feeling that not all of it was untrue. I think Dravid was hurt somewhere at that time but carried on for another full series since there was no one else to lead. That there were no tamashas and fighting in the public (which the Pakistani players are prone to) shows the quality of all three individuals. That they chose to play together to try and win a test series abroad shows their commitment to the cause.

Now that he has actually won the series in England, it is hard to understand the logic behind stepping down. I guess he is just fed up with all the unwanted attention the job brings. He certainly deserved better from everyone as the captain: the team, the board, the media and most of all the Indian public who made a monster of him for not winning the series in England 2-0 conveniently forgetting that we had never won over there for two decades.

Now for the bigger Q: who next? Sourav would be a backward step, Sachin would be two steps back, and there is no room to go ahead. Yuvraj does not have a place in tests, Dhoni is already juggling batting and keeping. With the expectation on his batting only going up, to saddle him with captaincy would certainly kill his natural game, of which, he has shown glimpses already.

Now, if Indian captaincy is such a huge burden, the selectors would be better off distributing it to two people.

The only other person apart from the trioka who has a test place and leadership experience is VVS Laxman. He did show glimpses of coming back to his best recently and what better way to give him the captaincy: before a series in Australia!

The ODI captaincy is a tougher one. If the selectors are not averse to having too much on Dhoni's plate he looks the best candidate, albeit the threat to his game. Else it must go to Yuvraj.

But the mind keeps coming back to Dravid. The BCCI must ask him to continue for sometime, atleast till the end of the Aussie tour. We need a good captain as well as Rahul the batsman against Australia and there is no reason they cannot be bundled in one individual.

Victory, sweet victory

2007-08-17T15:26:00.000-07:00

What a coincidence! In all my life of following the Indian Cricket team we have never won in England and now that I'm in England, they go ahead and beat the British at their own game! I would never forget the two tests I watched here at the Lord's and the Oval. And years from now, when people talk of the last time Dravid, Sourav, Kumble and Sachin played in England and won a test series, I can claim 'I was there'.

It was very heartening to see the Indians play like they did. They were ready for the long grind, and what's more, seemed to enjoy it too. The two big totals posted in Trent Bridge and the Oval were built upon a string of partnerships rather than the old habit of two batsmen putting on 300+ and the others managing 200. The bowlers were able to bowl England out in 5 innings out of 6, which is quite simply the main reason we won the test series. Pakistan, for instance, have a much better 'away' record than India since they have always had bowlers who could take the 20 wickets.

We also had a bit of fortune coming our way but the old adage of 'fortune favours the brave' applies here no end. And a few breaks from the normal: For a chang
1. We had the opposition captain and their best batsman getting sublime hundreds and losing the series.
2. Rahul won two crucial tosses.
3. Our batsmen received bad decisions but it did not result in the team collapsing in a heap.
4. The rain came down when we were 9 down!

It was as good as it gets - and please don't tell me it could have been 2-0.

Indeed, given the way the team was written off before the series, it is quite surprising that we are arguing now as to why we did not win it 2-0! A win is a win guys, take it as long as you get it!

Perhaps when we win overseas as often as, say, Australia, the skipper would have the confidence to go all out for a win. As far as I'm concerned, he wanted to seal the series victory and if we had won the last test, all the better. It couldn't happen due to various reasons, too bad, but hey, we have won a series in England after 21 years, surely that calls for a celebration!

I dread the day Sachin, Sourav, Kumble and Dravid would not be a part of the team. What joy would Cricket then be, I wonder! But sure enough, there would be new talent to look for. The new generation could not hope to get better role models.

As these players head to the final phase of their careers, though, it would be vital how much the Karthiks and Dhonis learn from them. By the looks of it, they are on the right path but that is what we had thought of Sehwag, Bhajji and Kaif a few years back. Of course, these players can come back any day but the sheer consistency which these players showed over the years would be quite impossible to replace.

For me though, the one image that would linger on from this series would be that of Sachin Tendulkar celebrating with the trophy. While I spotted misty eyes there (could well have been mine), here was a man who had given it all for the game he loves so dearly and for the nation and the team he plays for. Sachin and Lara must be the most unfortunate players in that they never won anything big. Sachin is at least enjoying some test wins abroad for the past 5,6 years. Win it for Sachin boys, beat the Pakis and the Aussies! Do it for India!

Wimbledon

2007-07-28T14:47:00.001-07:00

The name itself evokes memories of Sampras ruling the centre court. Having grown up watching players like Sampras, Graf, Sachin, Lara etc dominate everyone else, it is hard to call any new players 'great', even though the word is quite liberally thrown about now a days.

Being in London in June threw up the opportunity of watching Wimbledon so myself and my good friend Kalyan who had come down from Derby hopped over to Wimbledon as early as 7.30AM (we had to get up at 5 for the 1 hour train journey to Wimbledon!) to get into the queue and hopefully watch some action later on.

The schedule for the day had Leander, Paes and Sania's matches in addition to Hewitt and Rafael Nadal! We were hoping to get to centre court or court1 which would have allowed us to watch all the seeded players but even a ground pass which we eventually got was hard fought, what with a three hour queue! The center court and court1 tickets, we were told, we sold out first thing in the morning and were grabbed by people who had camped outside the courts all night!

London's weather has been a shame this year. The summer has simply not arrived. It also seems to have acquired a disconcerting consistency when it comes to rain, in the summer at that! That day was such a day. Though the prediction was for 'showers' which, owing to my 1 year experience of the London weather, I had put down to 'half and hour in the morning before the play starts and a maximum of an hour in the evening', which would at best threaten the Bhupathi-Sania match.

There were a lot of non-British people at the courts, and I was pleasantly surprised to see a lot of Indians turning up too, we must have been the only people to turn up in such large numbers even though we had no contender in any of the categories. But it was quite good, the atmosphere, it was better than what it is at a Cricket match at least where the only thing people seem to have arrived for seems to be the beer! There were the French and the Germans, other Europeans and there even seemed to have a decent number of South Americans! Hmmm..

Wimbledon is unaffected by the gross commercialisation which seems to have afflicted other sports. Not for Wimbledon the 'nPower' match or the 'Pepsi' drinks break. They have stuck to their tradition like no one else. To force today's fashion parade to turn up in whites and neatly covered up is an achievement in itself. We even had the traditional strawberry and cream during the rain! I had read about it as a schoolboy in the Indian Express and couldn't feel thinking how lucky I was to actually be at the venue I had seen so much on TV and read about! The Wimbledon shop turned out to be a disappointment though, with clothing being the only thing of note, other than a few DVDs which are also available on the net. One nice little innovation was that people leaving the courts midway are requested to drop their tickets in a box - these tickets are then sold to others who pay the full ticket rate. The amount collected this way is donated to charities! Smart thinking!

Well, coming back to the weather, it actually started raining at 9.30 as predicted and had almost stopped by the time it was 11, when play was supposed to start. So we took our seats in the only court which had a bit of a cover, court 13 where the French Open finalist Ivanovic was supposed to play. All right, not bad so far. But then it started raining again, and like a Rahul Dravid innings, it rained right through the day. We only managed to see about an hour's play in the 10 hours we were in Wimbledon, when finally at 7PM they announced that all matches for the day were called off; it was as disappointing as it could ever have got.

The only consolation was the fact that we had dropped the idea of camping all night for the centre court ticket (yes, we had thought about it as well) and that they announced a full refund on the match tickets, though I could as well have paid them double the amount to watch some real action! I'm not a huge tennis fan but hey, I still understand some of the nuances of the game and would have loved to see some live action. Watching tennis in that one hour showed how quickly the ball reaches the other side of the court on serve and even on a grass court, how appreciably it slows down and makes timing difficult. No doubt if it slows down further, as it does on a clay court, people have difficulty timing their ground strokes. Even Ivanovic serves at 110mph, a full 10mph faster than a Shoaib Akhtar delivery! But this speed is also counted only up to the bounce of the ball.

A week later, it was a bright sunny day when Venus Williams regained the Wimbledon crown and a day later The Fed-Express overcame a stiff resistance from Super Rafa to become the second player to win 5 consecutive Wimbledon titles! If only a bit of sun had shown up that day! But no complaints, being in Wimbledon and soaking up the atmosphere for a day was an experience in itself. Hope to come back some time, and if Federer adds a sixth or a seventh on the day, it would be the icing on the strawberry!

First spell

2007-03-24T17:43:00.000-07:00

I had been thinking about getting a blog started for months now, there used to be one in my office but then they sent me to London and I dont have access to it anymore!

But I have got too far - guess I must introduce myself to anyone who cares to, or has the time to, read these things. Well, I'm a 24-yr old from the charming city of Hyderabad in central (okay, southern) India. I did my engineering almost by default, and entered into an 'IT' profession after that again, by default and currently working in London. I hope to return to my dear Hyderabad after finishing my 'sentence' here.

I follow Cricket as no body in my acquaintance does - I even have what I call a 'Cricket collection
' where I maintain a record of all the matches, events in the world of Cricket through collecting scorecards and articles from newspapers and pasting them in a scrapbook. This way I have followed every match played by India since 1993 and every international match since 1996. May be it was the statistician in me which prompted a 9-year old to start collecting scorecards - whatever it was, I felt I owed it to myself to do it and could never stop after that - a couple of my friends who had started it with me couldnt even continue for six months. I still have the books Rakesh and Shravan (my oldest friends) handed over to me all those years ago when we were in the fifth standard! God, that was 15 years back!!!

Other than that, I enjoy reading and watching movies, though it is the latter that seems to have taken precedence lately. Blame it on the bloody unlimited pass - you see, we have a pass here using which we can watch unlimited movies for as little as 11 pounds per month! With myself starving to watch the Hollywood releases back home earlier it sure is a blessing for me. Period.

That's quite a lot of crap generated out of thin air.. promise more noteworthy things in future.